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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26582188">If The Sky Comes Falling Down</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittenly/pseuds/Kittenly'>Kittenly</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Autistic Shepard, F/M, Shenko - Freeform, canon character death, f-shenko, fshenko - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:21:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,195</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26582188</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittenly/pseuds/Kittenly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Expansions and reinterpretations of various scenes from the Mass Effect Trilogy. Tags and rating will be updated as more chapters get posted.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Female Shepard &amp; Garrus Vakarian, Female Shepard &amp; James Vega, Female Shepard &amp; Mordin Solus, Female Shepard &amp; Urdnot Bakara | Eve, Kaidan Alenko/Female Shepard, Kaidan Alenko/Shepard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Weather's Bringing It All Back Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(Expansion on the boxing scene between Shepard and Vega.)</p><p>Vega gets a pep talk he didn't ask for and figures out his new commanding officer.</p><p>Chapter Category: Gen<br/>Chapter Relationships: Shepard &amp; James Vega<br/>Other Tags: Mentioned Shepard/Kaidan, Angst</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Think you can talk and dance at the same time, Lola?” Vega asks. He’s not sure why he does, usually the pull-up bar and heavy bag settle his nerves well enough. But there’s something in the way Shepard moves that he recognizes. Some feeling that buzzes around her like static.</p><p>“Oh I can dance,” she says. The words are playful, but there’s an edge to them, and Vega suddenly wonders if this is a good idea after all. But there’s no backing out with dignity at this point. He tosses her the tape, and she wraps her hands with practiced confidence. He follows suit.</p><p>They take their positions across from each other on the shuttle deck. Vega puts up his fists, Shepard mirrors him but keeps her hands open. They circle for a minute or so testing each other. Vega’s not sure of the best approach--he’s got more than half a foot of height and at least sixty pounds on her. Still, the worst thing he could do is underestimate Commander Shepard. Just about the only thing that can top mass and reach in a fistfight is experience--the only way to prepare for a fight is to get into fights, and Shepard has been in more than...hell, maybe anyone. Certainly anyone he knows. </p><p>Without warning she closes with him, deflecting his startled jab with ease. But instead of clocking him in the jaw, she gives him a solid, annoyed slap on the temple. </p><p>“You always this hesitant in a fight?” she growls, neatly ducking his swinging reply and hopping out of his range. “How did the hell did someone with no conviction make Lieutenant?”</p><p>It’s an obvious attempt to rile him up, but nonetheless effective. That old need to prove himself rises in his belly, warming his body as it moves through him. Time to put his reach to good use. He rushes her, and even quick as she is, she can’t quite manage to get out of range and has to catch his punch on her arm. </p><p>“There’s a spark,” she says, and her block becomes a deflection, pushing his arm out and throwing off his balance. She follows as he takes an involuntary step back, and her other fist snaps at his unprotected face, catching him in the mouth. His lip splits and he can taste blood. “But you gotta have more than just a spark in you.”</p><p>Vega lets out a humorless laugh. “You sound like my old CO,” he says and goes on the offense. Keeps her on her back foot, not giving her any chance to counter-attack. </p><p>“The one who died?” she asks. A pang of erupts from Vega’s heart, fueled by the adrenaline. He loses focus for a second. Just long enough for Shepard to grab his wrist and twist. But before he can be fully put off balance again he strikes with his free hand. He gets her under the eye--the first solid blow he’s landed so far. Her head snaps back at the impact, but other than that she barely seems to notice. Then she steps in before he can pull away and headbutts him, slamming into his chin and wrenching his neck. </p><p>“Ow,” he says and stumbles back a few steps. “Yeah. That’s the one. Captain Toni.”</p><p>Now it’s Vega who’s stuck on the defensive. Shepard is relentless, always moving forward. He can barely keep her from slipping past his guard. </p><p>“It wasn’t your fault,” she says, forcing him back. “You get stuck with a whole lot of shit choices in our line of work.”</p><p>“Yeah and I made the wrong one,” Vega says. Suddenly he doesn’t care about taking a hit he and he takes a knock to the side of the head so he can land his own. She sees it coming but can’t do more than twist and take it on the muscle of her bicep. He knows he hit her solidly, but he might as well have punched his heavy bag--she’s about as stoic as it. “My crew or intel on the Collectors? I chose the intel, but then turns out you were already out there, blowing up their home base.” He harries her with his fists, but tears cloud his vision and he’s punching air. “They died for nothing!”</p><p>“You made a choice based on what you knew,” Shepard says, avoiding his wild swings with small, precise movements. “Sometimes you make the best choice you can and it still ends badly. You roll a six. Doesn’t mean you made the wrong choice.”</p><p>Vega blinks his eyes clear and lets out a growl of frustration. Shepard might be right. She might not be. He’ll never know and it’s all too much and the thought of setting down his guilt makes him feel sick. He throws a punch right at her face. The kind that has his whole body behind it and is way beyond what’s called for in this sort of boxing match. </p><p>Shepard catches his fist in her open hand and pulls him forward, so his own momentum and the placement of her feet flip him over her hip with barely any effort from her. He lands on the deck with a crash that will leave him sore tomorrow. The impact knocks his breath from his chest and the heat of his temper is driven out with it. </p><p>“You my shrink now, or what?” he asks, laid out on the shuttle deck, feeling no need to move. </p><p>“No,” she says. her face is serious, but the stoicism from the sparring match is cracking, and there’s something churning behind it. “But I know a death wish when I see one. Your stunt back on Mars? I know the sort of person who pulls shit like that.”</p><p>“I don’t see why it matters,” Vega says. “I saved all our asses.”</p><p>“It matters cause if you’re half the soldier I think you are, then this war needs you. Find a freighter back to earth if you've got to; if you can. But the Reapers will be gunning for you either way, and I don’t need you helping them out.”</p><p>It feels like a line from a movie. Like some bad war movie. But Shepard says it with such sincerity that he can’t help but kind of believe it himself. He hauls himself up off his back with a groan. </p><p>“Point taken,” he says, rolling out his shoulders. “I’ll leave the dogfights to Esteban from now on.”</p><p>“Good,” Shepard says, but she still sounds angry. Nevertheless, she offers him a taped up hand and helps him back to his feet. The skin on her fingers is rough and raw, and what shows under the tape is red and inflamed. </p><p>Vega feels better now. Maybe not good, but ready. That buzzing, static feeling around Shepard hasn’t dissipated though. He thinks about her hands and before he realizes this is probably a really bad idea he’s talking again. </p><p>“You didn’t leave the med bay until we were able to transfer him to the citadel hospital.”</p><p>Her fists ball at her sides but she doesn’t make any move to release the tension. </p><p>“We didn’t have a medical doctor on board,” she says. “I’ve got more than a little training as a field medic. It involves a lot of disinfectant. A lot of bleach.” She rubs her knuckles, frowning at the splitting skin around her fingernails</p><p>“Liara let slip that you and Kaidan used to be a thing,” Vega says, watching for any sort of reaction. She doesn’t answer so he keeps going. “Gotta say, Commander, didn’t really peg you as one to ignore something like fraternization regs.”</p><p>She looks up at him, eyes hard and the coldness in them skewers him, making the sweat he’s worked up freeze all over his body. </p><p>“Why are you asking me about this?” She asks flatly. </p><p>He shies away from her intensity. They wander back towards the corner of the bay he’s claimed with his weapon bench, and enough fitness equipment to make a personal trainer jealous. </p><p>“Didn’t mean anything by it,” he says. “I mean, it makes Mars make a hell of a lot more sense, but guess just wanted to see if you’re okay.”</p><p>Shepard’s brow furrows and she looks at him like she doesn’t quite understand the question. </p><p>“Vega, I don’t think you get it. I don’t have any choice but to be okay.” She turns to his heavy bag and punches it. The strike comes all the way from her hips and lands with much more force than anything thrown at him during their brief sparring match. “Earth is burning.” Another punch lands. “I don’t know where most of my friends are--or if they’re even alive.” And another. “My ex is in critical condition cause he was hurt under <em> my </em> command.” She has to shake her hand out after that punch. “And the god damn council<em> still won’t listen to me! </em>” Her final strike hits a seam on the bag and rips a hole in it. Sand pours onto the deck and Vega and Shepard stand and watch it fall through the metal grate to the subdeck below. </p><p>“No one else is flying to Palaven. There’s still work to do, and no one else is volunteering.” She turns to him, and he sees her fury’s true face. It vibrates along the same frequency as his memories of Captain Toni, his mom, and dreams of the man he’d always hoped his dad would turn into. </p><p>“What can I be but okay,” she says. It’s not a question. </p><p>And Vega understands then. Despite the shroud of rumor and mystique that permeates her reputation, Shepard is actually pretty straightforward. If someone needs help, she’ll be there. No questions, no complaints, no hesitation. And now it’s not a person, or a planet, or even a species that needs help. It’s the whole galaxy, and she’s right--no one else is volunteering.</p><p>When it becomes clear neither of them has more to say, she slips away, leaving him to patch the heavy bag as well as he can. Then, when they’re a few hours out from Palaven, he gets an email.</p><p><b>Cmdr. Shepard:</b> Sorry about the bag, Vega. Put in a requisition for a new one with Cortez, we’ll pick it up when we're back at the Citadel. </p><p><b>LT Vega:</b> Sure, but I’m telling him to take it out of your creds, Lola. </p><p><b>Cmdr. Shepard:</b> Acknowledged. Get one rated for Krogan this time.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I've been replaying Mass Effect (mostly 3) and ended up writing scene expansions/reinterpretations. Figured there was no reason not to post as I finish them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. You Can't Choose What Stays and What Fades Away</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>(Expansion of the first conversation in the hospital, with bonus Shepard-stands-up-for-herself content.)</p><p>Shepard and Kaidan say what needs to be said.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter Rating: T<br/>Relationships: Shepard/Kaidan<br/>Other Tags: Angst, Relationship Problems</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You’re hesitant, Commander,” Thane says. It’s not a question. His reptilian eyes blink thoughtfully at Shepard. “Yet you were in such a hurry when you entered. Are you conflicted about seeing Major Alenko?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could say that,” Shepard says. She takes a step towards the ICU and inpatient wing, then stops, and crosses her arms tight across her chest. “There’s…” she tries to find a word or phrase that can convey the tangled knot that’s wrapped around and between her and Kaidan. Nothing seems adequate. “History.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucky for her, Thane can read into the understatement. He turns to the hospital’s wall of windows, looking out over the parks and plazas and little shops that line the presidium. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forgive the rambling of a dying man, but you are drawn to the heart of the storm, to where the danger is greatest. I know better than to doubt your skill, but if there are words that need saying, you don’t know how many more chances you’ll get.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From anyone else it would have felt like a cliche, but Thane doesn’t say it out of sentimentality. It’s advice from a friend who’s seen more than his fair share of regret. Shepard shuts her eyes and breathes for a moment. The stark smell of antiseptic burns her nose but she manages to center herself despite it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right,” she says, her resolve settling. “And I needed to hear it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thane smiles, still gazing out the windows with a serenity she finds enviable. Shepard leaves him and makes her way through the hospital, towards the inpatient suites. On the way, she pauses by the gift shop where a collection of model ships catch her eye. They even have several versions of the Normandy, and she gets a small one that could fit in her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her conversation with Thane has quelled her uncertainty, but her stomach still tightens as she approaches Kaidan’s suite. Before she can quite get there, the door opens from the other side, and Councilor Udina steps out, still talking over his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need an answer, Major,” he says, almost walking into Shepard. “We need more soldiers like you--more humans like you as Spectres. Consideration is all well and good, but the other councilors may rescind the offer if they think you lack conviction.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll get it to you soon, you have my word,” said Kaidan. Shepard has to catch her breath. She hadn’t realized just how scared she was that she would never hear Kaidan’s voice again. For a moment, she feels the relief, pure and warm in her chest, even if it is soon snagged but the knot they’re caught in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, Shepard,” Udina says, finally turning around and noticing her. “I hope you have some good news for me, and I hope that news involves the Turian Navy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It does, but there are strings,” she says. “The official debrief is at the embassies in two hours. I can catch you up then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s always strings,” Udina mutters as he walks away. Shepard doesn’t watch him go, and steps into the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, god. You still look terrible,” she says, and Kaidan does. Bruising still makes a mask on his face, mostly around his left eye where his helmet was smashed in and spreading from under his short, black hair to his temple. The ones down his neck are almost healed, but it leaves him with yellowish-green splotches down his light brown skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs, a short, tired sound. “You’re a flatterer, as always.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” she says, and passes the model ship’s box between her hands.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugs and gives her a small smile. “Don’t be,” he says. “Nice to know some things never change.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s not sure what to say to that, so she falls back on business. She doesn’t know how to address the tension between them, but she does know how to be a good commander. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got your message,” she says, kicking a doctor’s wheely chair over and sitting down on it. “You wanted to talk? Is it about Udina’s offer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to see you,” he says. “But yeah, Udina’s been on my ass about it. What do you think? Even if I’m not the first, Spectre is a lot of power and a lot of responsibility.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s Shepard’s turn to shrug. “You’re one hell of a soldier, and you know what you’re about and where your lines are. Can’t think of a better choice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s hard to tell under the bruises, but Kaidan might have turned a little pink. “Thanks, Shepard,” he says, and coughs into his sleeve, and grimaces at the motion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’re you doing?” Shepard asks. “You were--” He’s laid out in the Normandy’s sickbay, his face hard to recognize from the lacerations and the bruising. She needs to get the swelling down. She needs to get the swelling--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shepard?” Kaidan asks. She shakes her head, dizzy as the past and present reorient themselves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were real bad the last time I saw you,” she finishes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kaidan nods. “Yeah, I’ve gathered as much. The docs said it was looking pretty uncertain there for a while, but I’m here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shepard looks at her freckled and calloused hands. “It was terrible, seeing you get hurt like that,” she says, her voice raw. “You almost died under my command.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I probably would have, if I’d been under anyone else’s.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t know if he’s saying it because he believes it or because he wants to make her feel better. Hopefully it's the former, and not just for her ego’s sake. Her former lieutenant had known how much she hates pretense and sugar coating. She wants to believe he hasn’t forgotten how to talk to her in the past three years they’ve been apart. The uncertainty scares her, and not for the first time she wishes she could decipher whatever secret code that others used to tell if someone was lying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But wishing has never gotten her anywhere before, so she sets the feeling aside as best she can and moves on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any long term problems they’re worried about?” she asks. “That bot busted up your head pretty bad--your implant okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kaidan nods slowly and runs his fingers gingerly over his face. “A little rattled, but I should recover fine. They found me an L2 specialist on the wards. I’ve kind of become her pet project. I know she’s explained all the medical jargon to me at least twice, but ‘rattled’ is my takeaway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hint of a smile touches her lips. “And you’re biotics?” she asks, settling her elbows on her knees as they pick up their old conversational rhythm. “Everything working alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mostly I’m under strict orders not to use them outside of tests and PT.” He winces as he pokes a particularly sore part of his face. “But everything’s good when I do. Better than good, I think they’re getting stronger.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that possible?” she asks. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt like mine changed. Refined maybe, but never gotten objectively stronger.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kaidan shrugs. “Dunno. Who knows, maybe some things just get better with age.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe.” The hint of a smile has settled into a real one. “Or maybe it’s just you who does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kaidan definitely goes pink then, obvious even through the purple and blue splotching that covers most of his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you flirting with me, Commander?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shepard looks down, not sure what the right answer is. So instead she holds out the box with the model Normandy in it. “Got you something at the gift shop,” she says. “A ‘sorry I let a robot break your head on Mars’ present.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tosses it to Kaidan, who catches it and gives her an opaque look. He slides it out of the box. It’s cheap and plastic but not a bad likeness to her ship. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A model ship; a model Normandy even,” he says, and gives a short laugh. “How very you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shepard locks her hands so she can squeeze something, suddenly thinking she might have made some mistake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not good at rules about gifts,” she says. “Did I do it wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kaidan glances over her shoulder, looking out into the hall, then when he’s satisfied with whatever he was looking for, leans in and makes the ship float with his biotics. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One could read some subtext into it if one wanted to,” he says, making the ship fly in circles in front of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shepard feels the knot they’re in tighten and start to chafe. A lump of frustration solidifies in her throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kaidan, I don’t do subtext.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not that kind of passive-aggressive stuff, I know,” he says. “But you do more than you think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lump in her throat hurts now. She thinks of the knot around them. How scared she is that any attempt to free the two of them from it will just end up with them strangled by it. But the pressure in her throat makes her realize that it's already choking her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we gonna be able to get past Horizon?” she asks, looking out the window behind Kaidan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess we’re done with subtext then,” Kaidan says. It’s not an answer so Shepard fixes him with her gaze. He meets her eyes and doesn’t get tense or look away like most people who aren't Garrus do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” he says. His gaze falls and he turns the little Normandy over in his hands, tracing the curve of her hull. “I’d like to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So where do we start?” Shepard asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Kaidan says again. He’s still staring at the ship and doesn’t look up at her. Then he sighs. “You appeared out of thin air after I’d mourned you as dead for more than two years. It was kind of a head fuck, Shepard.” </span>
</p><p><span>Now that his words have started there doesn’t seem to be any stopping them. “God--I  heard you get </span><em><span>spaced!</span></em><span>” A few tears shine at the corners of his eyes.</span> <span>“You have any idea what that was like? Then after I’m finally starting to move on, going on a few casual dates, getting real, important assignments to work on, you’re back. I’d heard rumors but I’d dismissed them. I thought if it was really you, you’d try to get in touch--”</span></p><p>
  <span>“I tried,” Shepard blurts out. “I tried at every chance I had. No one would tell me where you were.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You tried for two years? Come on, Shepard, I wasn’t that hard to find.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not understanding, and it makes her temper surge. As hard as she tries to keep a grip, some of it slips out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh sure, I deeply apologize for not emailing you while I was dead,” she says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean while Cerberus was fixing you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes! Fixing me from being dead! Kaidan, I lost two </span>
  <em>
    <span>years</span>
  </em>
  <span> of my life. I’d been awake for a few months before we landed on Horizon. But the Illusive Man was made sure I never caught wind of where you were.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kaidan looks away and out the window. “You broke my heart, you know,” he says finally. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a roaring in Shepard’s ears, and the antiseptic smell is starting to give her a migraine. She stands and sways slightly as blinding yellow auras radiate from everything around her. The view from the window isn’t as bad--the Presidium is bright, but the parks are green and most of the walkways are metal instead of stark white linoleum. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I deserved a little trust,” she says. She squints her eyes shut and presses her forehead to the cool glass, trying to grab the words before they flee altogether. “You know me. Or knew me. I’ve never had any love for Cerberus. You mutinied with me before Ilos. You could have trusted me enough to hear me out at least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How was I supposed to know it was you?” Kaidan demands. “And not some Cerberus puppet wearing your face?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, so why didn’t Garrus deserve your trust? Or Joker? Or fucking Chakwas?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kaidan doesn’t have an answer. Shepard’s blood hurts with every pump of her heart. Her migraine builds so the yellow halos dance on the back of her eyelids. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you still don’t trust me,” she says, the bitterness so sharp it stings her tongue. “Hackett trusts me enough to send me on a covert mission. Anderson trusts me enough to reinstate me and give me back my ship. But none of that is good enough for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shepard--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“People have been doing everything they can to wreck my name and reputation since Eden Prime. You saw it with Saren.” She turns back to him, and a black hole of despair cracks open inside her, tugging her atoms apart. “You never gave me a chance! But I had to move on, because there was work to be done. I ran a suicide mission through the most dangerous relay in the galaxy. I watched a friend die. And even after everything we’d been through, Kaidan, after Virmire and Ilos. You weren’t there!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kaidan stares at her, eyes wide, a few tears rolling down his bruised face. For once, it’s not Shepard who’s mute. When the silence stretches on, she takes a deep breath, wipes at her eyes and nose and tries to force the black hole away. She’s not completely successful--the weight is still pressing on every cell of her body, but she doesn’t feel like she’ll fly apart anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need people who trust me, now more than ever,” she says, walking towards the door. “I can’t be the Commander everyone needs me to be if my team is second-guessing me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t push Kaidan to talk. “I gotta head to the embassies,” she says. “I hope your recovery continues to go well, Major.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grace,” he says. She stops at the door but doesn’t turn around. He continues. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know how to make this right,” he says. His voice is rough and pained but Shepard isn’t someone who can decipher the emotions that twist it. “I do know that I still care about you. So I’m wondering: do you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still care. About me. Like you used to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shepard takes a moment to peer past all the heartache infecting everything she feels. The answer doesn’t surprise her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” she says, her voice low and soft. “I think this would hurt a lot less if I didn’t.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Canon needs more angst.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Maybe it's Enough to Know that We Were Here Together</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>(Rewrite of conversation with Garrus after leaving Palaven)</p><p>Shepard gets her best friend back. </p><p>Chapter Category: Gen<br/>Chapter Relationships: Shepard &amp; Garrus Vakarian<br/>Other Tags: Platonic H/C</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Shepard isn’t thinking about where she’s going. Her head is too full of Hackett and Victus and the imminent summit with the Krogan. Hackett said that there’s no one better to lead this summit, says no one else in the galaxy has as much diplomatic influence with the Krogan as she does. But she only has that diplomatic sway because she understands the Krogan, and that understanding is why she’s worried. Sure, Urdnot Wrex is her friend--more than a friend, he's crew. He would die for her, undoubtedly, but work with Turians and Salarians for her? That’s a much bigger ask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she gets it. Why should the Krogan help the very people who doomed their species to a slow, drawn-out death? As much as she talks to the council species about standing together, it’s a hollow thing to say to the Krogan. How can she go to Wrex and ask him to fight for the other species’ future when the Krogan have known for centuries that they don’t have one?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dread makes a home in her chest where it finds plenty of company, and Shepard realizes her feet have fallen back on old habits and led her right to the Normandy’s gun battery. For a moment she stands at the door, unsure. During those six months of house arrest, she walked the Normandy’s decks in both sleeping and waking dreams and she can’t quite remember if Garrus is really there or if she just put his memory there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She walks in despite the uncertainty. For a moment she thinks she really had imagined him coming aboard before she places his mumbled complaints and admonishments from farther down the chamber. He’s down near the end, and as Shepard approaches, the world around her settles into sharper focus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See you’ve wasted no time settling in,” she says, coming up next to where he’s pulled off a panel on the side of the main gun and is probably looking for any signs the Alliance engineers messed up his careful (or some might say, obsessive) calibrations.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been over six months, Shepard,” he says, reluctantly pulling his head out of the cannon’s guts. The scars from that rocket he took to the face have finally healed. “Need to make sure no one hurt my baby. Doubt your Alliance techs know what to do with her kind of firepower.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pats the side of the cannon and Shepard snorts. She turns so she can lean against the cannon and closes her eyes. For the first time since leaving earth, no one is waiting expectantly for her to speak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly,” Garrus continues. “I need the work. Leaving Palaven like this...I hate it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know what you mean,” Shepard says quietly. “Leaving Earth to save it. I think it’s maybe the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrus puts the panel back onto the cannon, and Shepard opens her eyes. He makes a thoughtful noise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” he says. “It hurts, sure. Hurts more than anything, but I don’t know about hard. I’ve known for a long time where I’ll be during this fight. Someone’s gotta watch your back when you go charging into the middle of everything with nothing but a damn pistol.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey--who is it that has to come to rescue your sorry ass whenever someone comes within thirty feet of you? Oh right, me and my damn pistol.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrus laughs. “Gotta say, you were a sight for sore eyes, turning up on Menae like that. I didn’t know you were coming.” He turns, suddenly giving his whole attention to the panel he just replaced. “You’ve been a ghost these past sixth months. I know penpals are usually just for kids but--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Shepard’s head snaps up. “You wrote to me?” she asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I wrote to you,” he says, mandibles twitching irritably. “So did Tali. I doubt there was anyone from the squad who </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>try to send at least one message.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sets her hands on the cool metal of the cannon, giving herself some sort of physical sensation she can focus on. She doesn’t have many distinct memories from the time spent under house arrest. Each silent day drifted into the next. But she hadn’t thought about the other side of the silence. About unanswered messages and friends who might worry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I--” she tries to pull the words to the surface but they’re gone. A throbbing starts in her ears as her whole body remembers the silence and how heavy and crawling it was. She can’t tell if it helps to know that there were people out there trying to reach her, trying to find her, or it if the weight pulls her under harder now that she knows the silence found its way outside and hurt her friends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t get them,” Garrus says, reading her face and harsh breathing. “I wondered. But…I guess I thought Anderson would slip you something. He’s bent the rules for you before.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s true, and Garrus only knows a fraction of the times he’s done so. Shepard closes her eyes, trying to limit the excess stimulation as she processes what Garrus has told her and digs up the words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did,” she says slowly. “Bend them. But I wasn’t his...jurisdiction.” That’s not quite right but she hopes it's close enough. “He leaned on people hard as he could. But they didn’t let me have a terminal. Blocked my omnitool.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So they were scared you might be communicating with someone? Receiving dangerous intel?”’:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or giving it,” she says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrus is still for a moment, then gives the panel a final pat before heading back to the computer at the base of the cannon. Shepard follows, and despite everything it’s nice to be here again, watching Garrus obsess over his calibrations, feeling the Normandy’s drive core vibrating on the deck below. It almost feels normal. Almost. The Normandy is too quiet, with barely more than a skeleton crew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She jumps when Garrus speaks again. “While it makes me angry, I can see why they did it. And if they hadn’t, well they might have to contain the Turian vigilante smuggled planetside to jailbreak you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He earns a dry laugh just for the image of him trying to storm an Alliance building in the middle of Vancouver by himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you were done with the whole vigilante bit,” she says, watching him pull up the diagnostic programs on the gun console’s computer. “Only place that’s gotten you in the past is dragged along on suicide missions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No--you’ve got it all wrong. All the suicide missions I’ve been pulled into have a single common denominator, and it’s not whatever tendencies towards vigilantism I have.” He pats her shoulder in a way that manages to be both friendly and extremely condescending. “No, Shepard, all the craziest, most dangerous things I’ve ever done are, without exception, things you’ve dragged me into.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now you’re back on my ship. Guess that doesn’t bode well for you,” she says, watching him flick through the program settings, making sure everything is to his specifications. Her shoulder ache and she tries to relax them, but the weight her assignment sits too heavily. “Anderson ordered me to get the help we need to save Earth, but getting these species to work together, getting the galactic council to listen to anything I say...I don’t know if it’s possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrus makes whatever jerky movement weird spikey bird-dinosaur aliens make instead of shrugging. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Impossible seems to be our specialty,” he says. The holographic display flashes as the diagnostic programs start. Garrus turns away, leaning against the console and looking hard at her. “You’ve gotten us through not one but two suicide missions-- which is really something considering the whole, inevitable death part of suicide missions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not everyone made it,” she says. The room around her starts to creep out of focus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Garrus says. “It’s a difference I’ve noticed between Turians and humans. Turians are raised from birth knowing that sometimes sacrifices have to be made. That if one turian is left standing at the end, then it was worth it. But you humans. You want to save everyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know I can’t.” She thinks of Vancouver being ravaged by reapers. Of the little boy in the exploding shuttle. “I know I haven’t. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try. No one is disposable. No one is unimportant. If I believe otherwise, then I don’t know who I am anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrus nods slowly. “Yeah. I hear you. Sorry, Shepard, I don’t have an answer. I might have thought I did when I was younger, but spirits, somehow we became old soldiers while I wasn’t paying attention.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It feels true. She might only be thirty-three but she’s beyond tired. Garrus has been with her since almost the very beginning, and they’ve been fighting this war alone for so long, longer than anyone. And even though no one can deny the Reaper threat anymore, it feels like they’re as thin on allies as ever. Or at least she does. She’s not sure about Garrus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, and in fact I’m pretty sure I saw a general saluting you on Menae. Don’t tell me you went and got all respectable, Vakarian. We gonna be calling you Primarch anytime soon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrus’ mandibles quiver and he gives a weak laugh. “Don’t even joke about that. I--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A light at the battery’s AI terminal flashes and EDI interrupts them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Commander, Specialist Traynor has found something concerning in the data transmissions from comm buoys around Grissom Academy. Please meet her at her station in the CIC. Also, hello Garrus. It is good to have another member of the crew back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, EDI,” Garrus says. “I’m glad to be back. Good to know the Alliance didn’t manage to pry you out of the ship.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jeff and I managed a convincing deception,” she says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I--hmm.” Garrus rubs at his face. “Not sure how I feel about that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do not worry. If I ever must deceive you, you will never know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The light in the AI terminal goes out. Garrus gives Shepard a look, and she laughs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s teasing you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrus shakes his head. “She’s spent too much time with Joker. He’s a bad influence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re all bad influences on this ship. Let’s just be thankful she didn’t imprint on the traumatized biotic woman, the even more traumatized biotic woman, the yeoman who was weirdly into anyone who moved, the Krogan going through Krogan puberty, or…uh. Jacob.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrus’s laugh explodes out of him and he has to steady himself against the gun’s console. Shepard can’t help but join him, and the two sink to the floor, wheezing and hysterical. The stress locked up in her muscle and guts seizes the opportunity for release and soon she’s not sure if she’s laughing or crying. Just when she thinks she’s got a hold of herself, Garrus gives a weak giggle and it sets her off again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes a while for their feedback loop to die out, and when it does they both sit there, winded. Garrus is the first to speak </span>
  <span>again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These past months have been hell,” he says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Shepard agrees, her voice a pinched whisper. Tears leak down her face and she wipes at them with her sleeve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So relieved to be back though,” Garrus continues and pats the floor beside him. “I’ve missed the old girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods and presses her palms to the floor. The ship hums and she can feel it moving up her arms and into her chest. “It’s good to be home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can’t stay long though--Traynor is waiting. So after a moment she takes a deep breath and drags herself to her feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just one meeting to another, huh. No rest for the weary?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not for me. We knew this was coming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrus’ face turns away. “Alright. Guess I’ll get back to what I do best: calibrating the giant gun.” He says the last part like he’s flirting, drawing out all the words. Shepard gives him a disgusted look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t fuck my ship, Garrus. Joker already called dibs.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Only Need the Light When it's Burning Low</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A conversation with Kaidan before he leaves the hospital.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter Rating: T<br/>Chapter Relationship: Shepard/Kaidan<br/>Chapter Tags: Angst, but like mellow angst?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Every time the Normandy returns to the Citadel, there’s more people. More in docking bay refugee camps, more crowding the embassies and the clubs. But the one that makes her nervous, really nervous, is how packed the hospital is. She almost turns back as the elevator spits her out. The lobby is a hive of motion and loud enough that she claps her hands over her ears at first. But Kaidan asked for her, so she’s here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She slips through the crowd until finally passing through the door to the inpatient suites. As it clicks shut behind her, she breathes a sigh of relief that turns into a cough as the ammonia and alcohol fumes burn her throat. She’s never liked hospitals, but she’s forming a special distaste for them these days. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She makes a list of all the things she doesn’t like about them as she walks because it’s easier than thinking about her impending conversation. A list of the various migraine triggers has almost concluded when she walks into Kaidan’s suite. He’s standing on his own this time, back in uniform and everything. He looks out the window and doesn’t turn around as the door slides shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Shepard,” he says, not moving his gaze from the window. “Glad you made it before they kicked me out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’d you know it was me?” she asks, unsure of what to do with herself. Since she can’t think of anything else, she stands by the door and stares at the back of Kaidan’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Door opened but didn’t hear anything. You can hear all the docs and nurses coming down the hall. But you’re always sneaking up on people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mean to,” says Shepard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kaidan finally turns around, and he gives her a good-natured grin. She doesn’t know if it’s forced or genuine and isn’t reassured as it evaporates when she doesn’t know how to respond. She just looks at him and feels stupid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think you’d want to see me,” she says, unable to keep her train of thought inside anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t sure if you would come.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll always come when you ask me to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I’ll always want to see you,” he says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kaidan gestures for her to come closer, and she does, walking up so they can stand side by side, not quite touching, and look out the parks of the Presidium. She hasn’t seen so much green in one place since she was last here. It puts her ship and even Grissom's hydroponics to shame. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d think they didn’t know there’s a war on, with them all going around like it’s normal,” she says, watching people of all species wander through the greenery. “It doesn’t feel real being here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I get that,” says Kaidan, following her gaze. “They do know of course--there’s nothing else the news talks about. But they don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know it</span>
  </em>
  <span> know it. It won’t last though. And I worry it’s going to be a rough wake up call.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods and decides to enjoy the quiet moment for however long it lasts. Things still aren’t okay between them, but Kaidan still wanted to see her despite their earlier arguments. For a second it even feels like they’re back on the original Normandy, knowing next to no one in the galaxy believed them and finding comfort in each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I don’t need to spring you free, does that mean you’ve decided what you’re doing?” Shepard asks. “You said you were accepting the Council’s offer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Second human Spectre. Udina thinks we might even have a real party. Says all the embassy staff could use the morale boost.” He looks at his shoes, then glances over at her. “I don’t suppose…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Suppose what?” Shepard asks when he doesn’t finish the thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That maybe you’d stick around for it? Have a few drinks? I get the feeling you could use a little downtime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tries to roll some of the tension out of her shoulders and sighs. “We’re here to pick up a Salarian Dalatrass. Hackett’s ordered me to chair an interspecies summit, and we’re due in the Krogan DMZ by tomorrow night. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, well can’t really argue with the Fleet Admiral. Well. Maybe <em>you</em> could, but...” he gives her a small sardonic smile, and she manages to return it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have plans for what’s next, Spectre Alenko?” she asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods and returns his eyes to the window. “Maybe. I’ve been wanting to track down some of my students from Biotics division. Spectre status can get me the necessary clearance to check in on them. Make sure they’re okay. But…” he licks his lips and his face flushes. “If you think the Normandy could use an extra hand…” He looks over to her, not quite able to finish the question. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wants it. She wants his quiet humor, his calm, grounding demeanor, and his diligence and his competence. She’s missed him more then she thought she could miss anyone, and working with him again on Mars, even if it went wrong in the end, has only made the pain more acute. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But some things have to be more important than what her heart wants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighs, and her exhale rattles out of her throat. She places her forearm up against the glass and leans her head on it. She looks at all the people below. Shopping and strolling and chatting. Living life how it should be. There’s too much at stake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I meant what I said when we last spoke.” Her words feel weighted as she tries to move them out of her mouth. “I can’t afford crewmates who don’t trust me. I refuse to put my team at risk. I refuse to let anyone else under my command get hurt like you did.” She shuts her eyes and tears squeeze out. As much as it feels like it right now, this pain won’t kill her. It hasn’t before and it won’t now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She feels something warm brush the hand at her side. She doesn’t protest as Kaidan takes it in his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” he says. “I know it’s not enough. But I’m sorry for not trusting you and the others on Mars. And--" He hesitates, but keeps going. "And on Horizon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right, it’s not enough,” Shepard says, and squeezes his hand tight. “But I appreciate the apology.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I’m not apologizing to get you to take me with you,” he says. “I just figure it’s overdue.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s trying to figure out something to say when her comm buzzes in her ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Commander?” Joker asks. “The Dalatrass is on board. We’re starting pre-flight checks in ten.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Copy that, Joker,” Shepard says, standing up from the window. She still hasn’t let go of Kaidan’s hand. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Duty calls?” Kaidan asks. He reaches out and wipes away one of the errant tears from her cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It does,” she says and laughs a little desperately. “Just gotta go convince Wrex to play nice with the Turians and Salarians.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh is that all?” Kaidan says. “Always getting the easy assignments, you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gives him a wan smile. “I gotta run. Take care, Kaidan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye, aye, Commander,” he says, and lets her go. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. I Want to Leave but the World Won't Let Me Go</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Shepard says goodbye to a few friends on Tuchanka. Eve gives her a parting gift.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter Rating: T<br/>Chapter Relationships: Shepard &amp; Mordin, Shepard &amp; Eve (Bakara), Shepard &amp; Garrus<br/>Chapter Tags: Angst, Canon Character Death</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Get back to the trucks!” Shepard shouts. The dusty Tuchanka desert is strewn with rubble as chunks of the Shroud’s tower crack off and plummet down around them. “I’ll make sure Mordin is safe. Don’t let anything happen to Wrex or Eve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Acknowledged!” Garrus shouts from the other side of some fallen rubble. “We’ll try and find another way around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go!” she shouts again and waves them back towards the convoy. Once she’s sure they’re safe, she turns back towards the base of the Shroud and sprints for it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Shroud stands tall over Tuchanka, a slim spire as tall as any skyscraper on Earth. Particles drift up from its peak stabilizing Tuchanka's atmosphere, and an unearthly glow emanates from around the top, shining like a green and white aurora. Shepard vaults over some debris and finds Mordin working at what must have been some sort of lab. There’s still equipment around, but the roof has been blown off. She hurries toward her friend. Shepard might not be an architect or engineer, but she knows the Shroud is about to collapse. <br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mordin,” she calls out, dropping into the shell of the old lab. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shepard,” he says in his usual short manner. “Glad you made it. Eve safe. Integrating cure with original genophage strain a success. Now just need to distribute.” He looks up at the tower, but his expression doesn’t change from his normal one of mild interest. “Should hurry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moves towards the elevator that will take him to the top of the tower. The collapsing tower. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” Shepard says, lunging for him, but the old Salarian is quick and she misses. No. No. She’s been here before. “That whole thing is coming down. There has to be another way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He steps in as the elevator door slides open. “No other way,” he says. “Must counteract STG sabotage. Need manual access to disperse cure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you go up there--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will not come back. Yes..." he says with regret. "Would have liked to run tests on seashells.”. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mordin--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head. “My mistakes. My plan. My cure. </span>
  <em>
    <span>My</span>
  </em>
  <span> responsibility.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the first time he’s called his work a mistake. Shepard's hands fall helplessly to her sides. This is his fight, just as the Reapers are hers. He can no more step off that elevator than she can say goodbye to the Normandy. Understanding doesn’t make it any easier to let him go, but she takes a step back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” He takes a deep, steadying breath. “Has to be me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hits the elevator button and smiles at her. He’s not afraid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone else might have gotten it wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the last she’ll ever see of him. A calm smile on his face. His back straight. Certain. Proud. The elevator door grinds shut and rises to the top of the tower. It might not even work--the Shroud is starting to groan as it buckles under its own weight. Has she just lost her friend for nothing?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But after an excruciating moment, there’s a change in the particles coming out of the Shroud. Flakes like snow or dust shoot out and disperse over the desert. She takes a step towards the elevator. Maybe he’ll come back after all. Maybe the sabotage was easier to fix than he expected. If he’d just hurry, maybe--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The top of the Shroud explodes, and Shepard can feel its heat on her face. Spots glow in her eyes from the flash, and she blinks them away and feels a weight press down on her. It wasn’t a real hope anyway. It’s the first stage of grief, and she’s starting to recognize the feeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, she takes a few more steps towards the tower, as if she could catch Mordin if he falls. But the groaning becomes a shriek as the tower finally gives out. The cure is released. Mordin is gone. Like Ash. Like Kasumi. Like the twenty crew members of the original Normandy who were spaced alongside her and stayed dead when she didn’t. No matter how much she wants to sit and mourn her friend, she has to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So she turns her back, hauls herself out of the shell of a lab, and leaves Mordin behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dust rises in the distance. It must be from the convoy. Her legs won’t run and the convoy seems impossibly far away, so she puts her head down and focuses on the just the next step. Then the next. Wind rips across the Tuchanka desert, teasing loose strands of ginger hair from her braid. They whip her face and neck, stinging along with the grit the wind picks up. She lets that be the extent of the universe: the stinging on her face and the next step. There’s no room for the past or future in this universe. No room for her cracking heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All too soon a truck comes bouncing over the rubble field, rending her tiny universe. Wrex jumps out before it’s come to a full stop. Eve follows a step behind. The flakes carrying the genophage cure drift around, and both Krogan hold out their arms, catching the flakes on their hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Other trucks arrive, and more Krogan spill out onto the rubble field, all watching in silence as the tower continues its slow collapse. Shepard joins them, but she barely sees the cure floating around her. She sees the grave of another friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wrex walks up beside her. “That crafty Pyjak,” he says. “He did it. He really did it.” Then, choosing a block of rubble to stand on, he gets up and turns back to the gathered Krogan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Once my father betrayed me in this place,” he says, gesturing to the ruins around them. “And I killed him because I had no choice. But now the Krogan’s future is returned to us! Now we don’t fight against our children, but for them! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are the survivors? The ones who tamed Tuchanka?” Wrex shouts to the gathered crowd. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Krogan!” the crowd shouts in reply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When the Rachni terrorized the galaxy, who were raised up to save it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Krogan!” the crowd bellows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And who will drive the Reapers from our home, and from Palaven and Earth? What name will they learn to fear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Krogan!” The noise is deafening as they stomp and shout and chant. Shepard can barely hear it over the echoes in her ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wrex turns back to her. “Shepard, our fleet is--Shepard?” he asks. She turns away from  Wrex, away from the crowd and steps to the edge of a rise in the ground. She grasps at the armor above her heart, which feels like it’s about to tear itself out of her body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me,” says a different voice, and footsteps approach her from behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before they arrive, Shepard falls to her knees and stares at the cloud of dust just starting to settle around the broken Shroud. She still claws at her armor, though its not the cause of the pressure in her chest. She tries to pull in air through her open mouth but it’s not working. Her throat is squeezed too tight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another person she couldn’t save. Another friend dead. Another name to add to the memorial wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a presence beside her, and a large, three-fingered hand sets down on her shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Commander,” Eve says, and her words have the practiced cadence of ritual. “We are in the Kelphic Valley--the Valley of Grief. Let your pain return to Tuchanka. She will accept it just as she has accepted the pain of our women for over a thousand years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In response, a wordless cry rips from Shepard’s chest. It’s a rough, awful noise that comes from the bottom of her lungs and tears her throat as it leaves her. She doubles over until her head almost touches the dry, cracked dirt. The pressure doesn’t ease when her breath runs out, so she gasps and a second cry, almost as awful as the first rips itself from her chest. She keeps going, with Eve’s hand never leaves her shoulder, and for a while, she thinks there’s no end to the noise inside her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But at some point, she realizes she’s been quiet for a while. She’s given her pain to Tuchanka. It’s passing has left her hollow and shredded. It feels like her lungs are full of glass when she tries to breathe, and she can taste and smell coppery blood in the back of her mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You came back,” Eve says as Shepard sits up and rubs the dirt off her forehead. “Not all do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had to,” Shepard croaks. She looks over. Eve sits beside her, one hand still on Shepard’s shoulder, the other tucked into her shaman robes. The Krogan woman stares at the settling dust at Mordin’s grave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know the feeling,” she says. “Let Tuchanka take your pain and leave you stronger for it, as she does for the Krogan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shepard sits back on her knees and raises her hand to Eve’s on her shoulder. It’s far bigger than hers but she does her best to squeeze it. She shakes her head slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t believe suffering makes you stronger. Or kinder. Or anything. Suffering is just suffering. In my experience, pain doesn’t turn you into a good person. It makes you cruel and cold if it can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve’s hand leaves Shepard, and she takes something from around her neck. It’s a crystal, an utterly unremarkable chunk of quartz, woven into a cord of intricate knots and braids. It’s Eve’s chisel. The reason she survived her shaman’s initiation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you must carve yourself into what you want to be despite it,” she says and loops the cord around Shepard’s neck. It’s far too big for a human, so Eve ties it off and knots the tails together down Shepard’s back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shepard takes the crystal in her palm. It’s been sharpened to a point at one end, and one side has something of an edge to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is important, precious, to you,” she says. “I can’t take it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a gift,” Eve says, finishing the knots and returning her hand to Shepard’s shoulder. “I have a feeling we won’t see each other again, Commander Shepard, but know that Urdnot Bakara will always call you, ‘friend.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bakara,” Shepard says, testing the name in her mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I gave my name to my sisters when I became shaman of the female clan. I will count you among them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m honored,” Shepard says, squeezing the chisel tight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s also a reminder,” Bakara says, and gets to her feet. She offers Shepard a hand up. “That when you find yourself in complete darkness, there is always a way out. It may be difficult, and require sacrifice and endurance beyond what you think you’re capable of, but you will find it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shepard lets go of the crystal, letting it clack against her armor. “I’ll remember,” she promises.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bakara nods and reaches out, lifting Shepard’s chin so she will look Bakara in the eyes. “Thank you,” Bakara says. “The Krogan will never forget what you’ve done for us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shepard shakes her head. “I was just your chisel. Thank Mordin,” she says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He will be remembered too. I will make sure of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Shepard says. She’s got no more tears or screaming in her, but every part of her aches, inside and out. “And goodbye, Bakara. I know the Krogan are in good hands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We won’t let this chance for redemption go to waste. Farewell, Commander,” she says and inclines her head. Shepard mirrors the gesture, then stands straight again as Bakara returns to her people. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A moment later, Garrus and EDI appear from the throng of celebrating Krogan. Neither looks like they suffered anything more than some bumps and bruises, which is a triumph when you’ve been trapped in an ancient temple fighting off Reaper troops and also trying not to get incinerated by the actual Reaper’s laser cannon.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve radioed the Normandy,” Garrus says. “Cortez should be here soon to pick us up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meanwhile we try to avoid getting trampled,” says EDI, looking warily at the nearby Krogan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shepard motions for them to walk out into the desert, where Steve can easily pick them out. Her two companions keep looking at her, and Shepard wonders if they’re expecting her to say something. But she has nothing, so the three of them wait out in the wilderness in silence until their ride shows up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trip back to the Normandy is foggy, and while she doesn’t feel like she’s falling into the wrong place on the timeline, she doesn’t feel like she’s really there on the shuttle or there in the Normandy’s shuttle bay. She peels off her armor and leaves it on the bench still dusty and full of grit, then drifts up to her empty cabin, where she feels the water from the shower pelting her skin, but wouldn’t be able to say if it was hot or cold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once she’s rinsed off and dressed in her work uniform, she asks EDI to reach out to Hackett and get him on the vid comm so she can deliver her initial report. As she passes through the war room to the comm room, Primarch Victus pulls her aside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has trouble meeting her eyes and there’s a noticeable droop in his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Commander,” he says. “I confess I didn’t really believe you could do it. But I’ve just sent word back to Palaven’s generals that the Krogan will be joining us in our fight for our homeworld.” It’s good news but Victus is terribly still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We didn’t do this alone,” Shepard says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need to tell me,” Victus says. “I hear Mordin was your friend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More than a friend. He was crew.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” Victus sighs and leans against the wall. Shepard wonders if she looks as exhausted as he does. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods. “I know I said it before, but I’m sorry for your own loss, Primarch.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My son died with honor,” Victus says, though his voice trembles. “That’s all a father can ask for.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We both know that’s not true. You want what every parent wants--what everyone wants for the people they love. For them to be safe and happy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yet honor is all I have,” Victus says. “It will have to do. And Shepard, when you return to Earth, the Turian Hierarchy will stand with the Alliance.” He turns and walks towards the war room's central display, and Shepard gets the impression the conversation is over. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>When she returns from her debrief with Hackett, Victus is gone, and the war room is empty except for Garrus. Shepard walks up beside him and activates the console. She starts scrolling through projections of the galaxy’s readiness, scanning through the updates following the Krogan-Turian treaty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shepard,” Garrus says, trying to catch her hand. “This can wait. You need some sleep.” Shepard brushes him off and continues scrolling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” She doesn’t say the real reason she’s reluctant. The dream is back. The one in the woods where she chases that little boy she tried and failed to save the day the Reapers invaded Earth. The one where no matter how hard she tries to force her limbs through space, she’s stuck in slow motion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m trying to avoid that outcome,” Garrus says drily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t feel the usual warmth she does whenever Garrus teases her. She just continues to scroll through the readiness reports without taking in any of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll miss him,” Garrus says. Shepard looks at him and sees him rub his face with the back of his hand in a way she knows she does too. “The rambling, the times he’d wake me up in the middle of the night to ask if Turians had heat vision or something. Well, I won’t miss him trying to hook me up with Eve, but I’ll miss everything else.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She almost corrects him, but then remembers that the name ‘Bakara’ was a gift to her alone. She squeezes the crystal still around her neck. It bites into her palm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrus steps in closer to her side and puts a hand on her shoulder. She continues her silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you need a friend tonight?” he asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hesitates, then nods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” he says and pulls her into a real hug. It’s not the most comfortable thing, hugging a bird-dino in armor, but a small warmth kindles in her regardless. “Let’s go up to your cabin. We can talk or not talk. Sleep or not sleep. Doesn’t matter to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lets herself be towed along behind Garrus. She’ll have the dream again tonight, of that she’s certain, but maybe it won’t be as bad if she doesn’t have to wake up alone. </span>
</p>
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